Chapter 677
[ 581 words ]
After Susanna came down with a fever, she became even more of a handful.
She insisted that Hull hire two more housekeepers for the villa, and by the time Silas arrived with his men, the staff had doubled.
Hull’s tone was icy as he asked, “You ran the background checks?”
Silas nodded, reassuring. “Don’t worry, they’re both clean.”
Barnaby’s face was still swollen and red, evidence of Silas’s rough handling earlier.
When he saw Hull, Barnaby shot him a teary, wounded look, clearly feeling sorry for himself.
Hull didn’t even glance his way.
Instead, he told Silas, “Make sure someone keeps an eye on her.”
Women. Always so delicate.
Hull had seen it before, the way Stella acted around Ronald-so soft and fragile. Honestly, that was probably why Hull had always avoided getting too close to women. Even someone like Yvonne-take her out on a job, she’d stub her toe and scream bloody murder. In two words: high maintenance.
Silas nodded. “Understood.”
Barnaby piped up then, “So… are we still checking if she’s a mole or not?”
The fact that Hull had broken his own rule about not having extra help in the villa was telling. Even if Barnaby was a little slow on the uptake, he could tell that Susanna now meant something different to Hull.
Silas shot Barnaby a look that could have wilted a houseplant.
This guy… Face still swollen and he hadn’t learned his lesson?
Silas sucked in a sharp breath. “Boss, he’s just—”
He glanced at Hull, noticing the shadow in his eyes as he stared down Barnaby.
Silas’s lips twitched. “You know, Dr. Yoder mentioned they’re really short-staffed out at the Mojave outpost. I think Barnaby’s just the guy for the job. Should I put in a word, send him over?”
God above, that was the best he could do for Barnaby.
Did the guy not know when to keep his mouth shut? If he kept running it, sooner or later, he was going to get himself killed.
But as soon as Barnaby heard “Mojave outpost,” he panicked. “No, no, no, I’m not going out there!”
Silas: “…!!”
Kid definitely needed to toughen up.
Hull leveled a chilly stare at Barnaby. Barnaby gulped, shrinking under the gaze. “just thought you might need me here, you know, since we don’t even know for sure if Susie’s a plant or not…”
Silas: “…My head hurts.”
Before Hull could say a word, Silas stepped in, grabbing Barnaby by the collar and dragging him out. “Get out, get out, get out. Were you drunk last night or what?”
Couldn’t let him keep talking—if he did, he’d end up six feet under.
Barnaby protested, “I haven’t had a drink in three months!”
Silas snapped, “Shut up, idiot!”
Honestly… what a moron.
…
After Silas hauled Barnaby away, one of the maids came downstairs. “Sir, Miss
Susanna’s mumbling and refusing to take her medicine.”
“Force it down if you have to,” Hull said with a dismissive wave.
Women. So troublesome.
The maid added, “She’s already cried so much, her pillow’s soaked.”
Hull: “…..”
Not just troublesome-downright impossible.
Upstairs, Susanna was half-delirious with fever, clutching her blanket in a death grip.
Hull sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the pitiful tear tracks on her face.
He felt a twinge of annoyance.
On the nightstand was the ointment
the docto
had prescribed for her wounds, still unopened. Clearly she’ ignored his earlier instructions it on herself.
Sighing, Hull tore open the package.
He washed his hands, rummaged around in the first aid kit for a pair of gloves-
last night’s mess was fresh in his mind.
When Hull started tending to her injuries, Susanna whimpered and pulled away, voice thick with tears. “It hurts… Don’t…”
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